In the yellow glow of a dying streetlight stood two men.

One was built like a telephone pole in a brown sweater that looked like it had fought several wars with a coffee machine and lost. Next to him, a shorter figure shifted uncomfortably, wearing thick-rimmed glasses that kept sliding down his nose, a backpack clutched like a shield against his chest.

The tall one looked at the sky, then at his watch, then at the sky again.

"You ever notice how waiting for a bus is like waiting for life to happen? Except the bus actually shows up eventually."

The shorter one adjusted his glasses and looked down at his shoes.

"I... uh... I usually walk."

"But here you are, waiting for a bus."

"My therapist said I should try new things. Though I'm not sure this is what she meant." He paused, scratching his neck. "I actually walked here to wait for the bus."

The tall one turned, intrigued.

"You walked... to wait for a bus? That's like going to a restaurant to look at pictures of food."

"I know. I know. It's just... I needed to practice being around people. But not too many people. Bus stops seemed like a good middle ground. Enough people to be uncomfortable, but not enough to be terrifying."

"So you're practicing being uncomfortable?"

"Yes. No. Maybe? I'm not very good at it. The practicing part, I mean. I'm excellent at being uncomfortable."

The tall one nodded thoughtfully.

"You know, I once tried to practice being spontaneous. Had it all planned out. Tuesday at 2 PM - do something unexpected. Wednesday at 3 PM - surprise myself."

"Did... did it work?"

"Ended up following the schedule so strictly I accidentally became more rigid. Now I can only be spontaneous on Tuesdays at 2 PM."

The shorter one almost smiled, then caught himself.

"That's actually kind of funny. Not laughing-funny, but the kind of funny that makes you think about the futility of human endeavors."

"That's the spirit! He shot a quick glance at his watch. "I don't think this bus is coming."

"Oh, I know. This route was discontinued two years ago."

The tall one stared at him.

"You knew?"

"Yes. That's why I chose this stop. All the anxiety of waiting for a bus, none of the pressure of actually having to get on one."

"That's... that's either brilliant or completely insane."

"My therapist says it can be both. She charges me double for that kind of insight."

They stood in silence for a moment, watching cars pass by.

"Want to get coffee?" the tall one asked.

"I don't drink coffee. It makes me too anxious."

"Tea?"

"Tea makes me too calm. Then I get anxious about being too calm."

"Water?"

"Water makes me need to use public restrooms, which is a whole other therapy session."

The tall one grinned. "You're really committed to this anxiety thing, aren't you?"

"It's more like it's committed to me. Like a clingy ex who still has the spare key."

They continued standing there, two strangers at a bus stop that would never see a bus, one talking to fill the silence, the other filling the silence with awkwardness. Somewhere in the distance, the bus drove past on a different route, and neither of them noticed.